


If Only We Remember to Turn On the Light

by saltandtea_in221b



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexuality, College, Destiel - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Future Castiel, M/M, Masturbation, Megstiel - Freeform, Pop Culture, Rough Sex, Smart Dean Winchester, based on 2014!Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2017-12-30 21:31:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandtea_in221b/pseuds/saltandtea_in221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas doesn't have time for this Pop Culture class Meg drags him to. He really doesn't have time for the kid sitting next to him cracking jokes and looking like sex on legs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> American college AU. 
> 
> RA - Resident Assistant. They act like the big brother/sister for dorm residents, keeping the peace and enforcing rules. On some campuses it's a paid position.

> _Anonymous asked: I’ve been sleeping with this guy for a few weeks, and now he won’t talk to me. Completely ignores my calls and texts. I don’t know what I did wrong! Help!_
> 
> **Clarence: Nonny, I’d say let him go! It’s college. People have sex. If he didn’t give you a reason, and you’re not a crazy person, then it probably was not anything you did to make him distance himself. Let yourself have one pity party night of Ben & Jerry’s, The Notebook and Kleenex. Then shake it off and keep on keepin’ on! xx**

Hit Publish. Log off. Close laptop. Dump out the cold coffee that’s been sitting on my table for the past hour.

Cas sighed, rubbing away the stagnant feeling from his eyeballs. He stretched, allowing an ungodly groan to escape out into the warmth of his dorm room. For September it was fucking cold outside. Unfortunately living in Illinois for 21 years didn’t have any correlation to Cas’ resilience to cold weather. Cas was more of a summertime, lemonade-on-a-hot-day kind of guy. None of this snowman, hot cocoa, Christmas carols bullshit. Thankfully, having a single in the RA hall of his dorm meant Cas easily escaped the holiday hubbub he so despised. Unless Meg coerced him into a torturous ritual of what she called ‘celebrating’.

He wriggled his shoulders uncomfortably at the thought, which conversely made him realize he was sore, tired, and hungry. Lurching to his feet, he hobbled to the fridge. Lamely, he reached in to pull out the pizza box that occupied the space next to his beer. Pizza and beer for three nights in a row didn’t signify some sort of problem, did it? Cas realized he didn’t quite care as he munched on the cold slice of pepperoni, finishing it within the minute, along with a few swigs of a leftover beer from the night before.

Cas wouldn’t ever dare describe himself as a messy guy, but in the midst of his classes, his blog, working as an RA, and applying to grad school, the dorm had gotten a fair amount of neglect since he moved in August. He swept a few discarded pairs of socks over to the doorway of the bathroom, scattering a flock of dust bunnies along with them. As the little red numbers on the clock switched to 1:00 AM, Cas threw himself onto his well-worn futon. Sleep washed over him like a warm tidal wave, eradicating any further thoughts rolling around in his head.

x x x

“Why would I ever want to take a Pop Culture class?!”

That was honestly the most ridiculous suggestion Meg had ever thrown him. And she’d suggested sharing a dorm room.

“Aw angel, c’mon. I wanna take it. You could benefit from at least understanding half of my vocabulary.” She twisted her fingers through the dark tendrils at the nape of his neck, coaxing out an involuntary shiver. He seriously hated when she did that; she always thought it meant she was turning him on, when really she was just stimulating certain sensory nerves that triggered his muscles to convulse. Not much about Meg revved Cas’ engine these days. He batted her hand away, placating her need for touch by entwining their fingers together.

“Cas that stuff is going to kill you.”

Cas finished the Monster with excessive flourish, leaning his head all the way back, smacking his lips loudly as he put the can down. Meg hated when he drank energy drinks, but with his recent lack of sufficient rest he couldn’t afford to go un-caffeinated these days. He might also drink them in front of her on purpose, just to get a rise out of her. He finally answered her with a shrug, tossing the can in to the trash bin with ease.

“Everyone dies Meg. I’m gonna go out the way I want to.”

“Wow Cas, such happy thoughts so early in the day. Careful, you might enjoy life if you keep thinking that way.” The venom in Meg’s voice was empty, fruitless. Sarcasm was her default mode, and it’s what Cas enjoyed most about her. They had met in their sophomore Religious Histories  class; they spent the next 90 minutes arguing over moral rightness, then proceeded to fuck in the girls’ bathroom down the hall afterward. They’d been on and off since then, a relationship born out of intrigued convenience. Cas really couldn’t bother with keeping a steady relationship when his time was devoted to much more important things. Thankfully Meg was equally as busy. They were in a comfortable companionship, albeit occasionally irritating.

“Fine, Meg, if you wanna take this stupid-ass pop culture class I’ll do it, but only for the extra credits. Plus grad schools will probably like the break in monotony of my schedule. Shows motivation. Or whatever.” Cas shrugged, ambivalence rolling off him. She was right; at least he’d understand some of her god forsaken references about Star Wars and all the other stuff that he apparently should know about because having a Tumblr apparently meant he was supposed to follow blogs that posted things about it.

A weak beep sounded from within his pants pocket. He wiggled away from Meg’s grasp to pry his phone out, checking the email. Another anonymous person asking how to win back their girlfriend because Anonymous fucked up and forgot girlfriend’s birthday. Cas chuckled to himself when he realized people would definitely not ask him for relationship advice if they knew that he had a long-standing friends-with-benefits situation going on. Oh well. Too late now.

Meg’s hand rested gently on his shoulder. “Angel, if you’re gonna take this Pop Culture class with me, we’d better go. It’s over in the Ansler Center cross campus.”

“Ah yeah, okay. Let’s go, devil woman.” Cas spoke the name with fondness. “Let’s see what this shindig is all about.”

x x x

They made it to class with 30 seconds to spare. The man, whom Cas assumed to be the professor, cleared his throat loudly as students settled into their seats. Meg shoved Cas to the only two open seats available. He found himself in the front row, next to a dirty blond kid with horn-rimmed glasses. Meg crowded him on his right side, whispering apologies to everyone around them. The professor called himself Jim, they were all to do the same.

“Excuse me, sir?” A delightfully deep voice stirred next to Cas. _Well that’s going to be interesting._

“Ah yeah, what’s up Winchester?” Oh great, so this kid knew the teacher? Cas was definitely going to pick a new seat next class. If he even came to the next class.

“I was just wondering how far back we’ll be going with pop culture references? Like am I gonna get to say “may the fourth be with you” in May? Or ya know, talk about gigawatts for a DeLorean? Or-.”

“Dean, calm yourself. We’ll be covering those references, and much more, yes.” Jim was shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Cas felt this kid shift beside him, only to realize he, uh, Dean, was now facing him. Cas granted him half a turn and a crooked eyebrow.

“Dude this is gonna be awesome, am I right?!” That baritone vibrated over Cas’ skin, right into his bones. He quickly cleared the growing lump in his throat to mumble a reply.

“Yeah, uh, awesome.”

And hell if Cas didn’t notice Dean’s bright clover green eyes, and full lips, and quaint freckles covering the expanse of his face, it might have been an awesome class, except that Cas’ erection became painful after the third question.


	2. Chapter 2

He was going to die. This was it. Death by priapism. Okay it had only been a ninety minute class, but 90 minutes of Dean Winchester radiating heat. Ninety minutes of Dean talking. Ninety minutes of Cas pointedly ignoring Meg’s underhanded comments in favor of side-eyeing Dean as he rambled for the fifteenth time about Nolan’s Batman, whatever that was. And fuck if Cas didn’t make it back to his room immediately he was honest to God going to pass out.

Cas scurried from the room as soon as Jim waved them away, rocketing towards freedom. Of course until Meg grabbed his hoodie, tugging him back into the Hell that was Pop Culture 201.

“Listen you little demon, I _need_ to go. I’m late. Plus I’ve got a shit ton of stuff to do for my actual classes. And the blog. And I need to feed myself some proper food for once because I’m pretty sure beer and cold pepperoni pizza every night this week is not healthy and…” He stopped with a gasp as Meg tugged him towards her petite frame. He apparently wasn’t hiding his predicament as well as he’d hoped, because Meg cut him off with a long, deep kiss. He felt her fingers wandering into his front pocket, teasing the warm length he desperately wanted to relieve.

“Oh angel, tsk tsk. I didn’t know pop culture was so _arousing_ for you.” Her smirk drove Cas to a dark place, and as it was he was tired of fighting. He wrapped his arms around Meg’s waist, hoisting her up flush against his chest. Their eager lips met ravenously. Cas realized they hadn’t fucked in almost two weeks, earning him a below-the-belt pulse of need. Quickly he located the nearest bathroom on the floor, kicking the door almost off its hinges. As soon as the lock clicked into place the room became just a little too warm, a little too small. Cas hadn’t felt the desire flaring up in his stomach like this in ages; a long lean panther waking up from slumber, midnight black, and hungry for anything it could pounce on first. He had no preamble for this, just knew he needed to bury himself in a warm body until this need was sated.

Meg had already perched her half naked body on the sink counter. And thank Zeus she was already teasing herself, two fingers working their way along her lace panty line. Cas didn’t have all day to finish this, nor was he sure how long he’d last if Meg needed solid foreplay. As it seemed, she needed very little help from Cas. He just stood there, aching cock struggling against the still-engaged zipper, watching the dark, glorious creature unfurl herself before him. She let out a mewl of pleasure as her fingers dipped between warm, swollen mounds of flesh. Her desire eradicated all other stimuli in the room; she was all Cas could hear, see, smell, feel, touch.

Vaguely Cas was aware that he had unzipped his pants and had begun stroking himself as he shamelessly raked his eyes over Meg’s lustful motions. Suddenly her eyes snapped open, burning amber locking onto Cas’ electric blue. He moved without mercy, pulling Meg off the counter, biting and sucking at her lips. He didn’t need to tell her what to do next. She turned around to face the counter, bracing herself as she gazed wanton into their reflections. Cas didn’t bother to remove his pants, simply moving the fabric out of the way as he eased himself out completely. He graciously reached a hand between Meg’s legs to assess how he should proceed. The wet, slick feel on his fingers told him all he needed to know as Meg supplied him with a groan of satisfaction. Content with her arousal, Cas hastily dragged the lace down her thighs. His hand curled around her hip as he steadily guided himself inside her. The fire burning inside him raged against his ribs, beat at his throat, assaulted his eyes until it was blinding. It consumed him as he pulled back, then forced himself back into Meg. The repetitive motion combined with white-hot lust buzzed around Cas’ brain until Meg’s body responded tightly, contracting around him as her orgasm rolled through her. He opened his eyes to meet Meg’s reflection, except all he saw were Dean’s green eyes, Dean’s slicked lips, Dean’s sex-tousled hair. All it took was imagining that kid beside him ten minutes ago for Cas to topple over the edge of his own orgasm.

With no real finesse, Cas extracted himself from the tangle of arms and legs. The sound of tearing paper towel broke the humid, sex-drenched bubble surrounding them. Cas swiped the paper over himself quickly, banishing the evidence of his imagination to the deep corner of his mind. Meg hastily tugged her clothes back on, eyeing Cas nervously. He realized he had been brusque this time, something he had never done before. With all the awkwardness of a high school make out session, he shuffled meekly over to her.

“That was, uh, wow. Heh. Are you-you okay?” He loved Meg, even if it wasn’t the kind of love that leads to buying a house and a golden retriever and having little kids dressed up as unicorns for Halloween. He knew Meg would sell her soul for him to want that. He just didn’t.

“Yeah, wow is right. I forgot you knew how to fuck like that, angel. Maybe this pop culture class will be fun.” She winked, attempting to mask the questions that were hesitating just behind her words. He met her halfway as she stretched to kiss him, planting a chaste kiss to her worried lips. He didn’t have the heart to tell her his lips were tattered in an effort to keep Dean’s name from slipping through them.

She slipped her hand onto his chest, patting him once as she turned to go. “See yeah later, Cas.”

“Yeah. See ya Meg.” His brow furrowed as he heard his own voice, wrecked, weak. He carded a hand through his mussed hair, narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side as he glanced into the mirror.

_Well what the fuck you gonna do now, Novak?_

x x x

He’d fucked Meg into a fucking bathroom sink. All the while thinking about that goddamn kid. What the fuck was that about? And why were grocery stores so adamant about having lights that clicked and buzzed overhead? God. All he wanted was some EZ Mac and more beer. No, scratch that. This required gin. Maybe some sour mix, because Tom Collins were classier to drink alone than straight gin, right?

Strolling to the liquor isle with an arm full of EZ Mac was the quintessential college student look. Cas had it down to a science. However when his phone bleeped loudly, a few packages tumbled to the floor.

Today was seriously not his day.

He plucked the phone from his jeans. _i-am-batman asked: how do i know if someone in my class is gay?_ That’s all the email read. At least that was an easy answer he could put off until his hunger had abated.

He successfully snagged a bottle of gin and a small bottle of sour mix, and wandered his way up to the register. He declined the obligatory small talk from the cashier, opting for a terse smile as he swiped his card and ducked out into the chilly September night.

Needless to say, drinking Tom Collins before the EZ Mac was a terrible idea.

Cas ended up answering every single inbox message he had on the advice blog. Some he had managed to compose properly. Others looked like they had been written by a horny, nerdy teen girl with a bad crush on the quarterback. He even answered the one about the gay classmate.

> **Clarence replied: DUDE, justtt askkkk. Be chill ask super casually about like dating and their life and if they wanna fuck. No. Wait. Not the fucking part. Just, uh, just be cool. I know if some hottie asked me out even if they didn’t know 100% I was a huge flaming gay, I’d be impressed with their balls. HAHAHAHA no I mean with their courage! so yeah just don’t be weird ;)**

After that his dorm room became a smudge of colors that ended in a loud thud as he fell face down on the carpet. His drunken dreams involved long, slow kisses trailing along that muscled, freckled body of some faceless man who moaned his name in the richest baritone Cas had ever heard.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all,
> 
> I apologize, this isn't actually a full chapter. I'm attempting to participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) this year, and I'm writing something other than fanfiction. Ergo, the updates of this fic will be delayed. I'm about halfway through a new chapter as of Halloween, however I'm already distracted by NaNoWriMo thoughts. If inspiration hits for this fic, I'll make time for it. But for now, hiatus will be until December. 
> 
> I apologize. I really love this fic, I promise I'm not orphaning it! Y'all are really amazing <3

On hiatus until December 2013 due to participation in NaNoWriMo.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to break hiatus to finish this chapter!

Ya know how in Pet Semetary, the kid gets hit by an eighteen-wheeler truck? But then the dad goes a little nuts, buries the kid in some creepy Native American cemetery, kid comes back to life but he’s evil as fuck?

Cas would be better off as that kid.

His liver felt like it was composed of pure gin, his veins still pumping the intoxicating liquid through his body. He was pretty sure he slept through his morning class. Shockingly he didn’t care as the sunlight streaked through the room invading his space and assaulting his retinas. He had managed to regain some dignity by crawling up onto the futon when he woke up drooling all over his carpet. Since then, he hadn’t moved off the moderately accommodating cushions. Every so often his phone would beep, but he wasn’t sure if it was signaling low battery or emails. He didn’t care. He might still be drunk.

A rap of knuckles on his door thundered through his ears, knocking around in his skull. Scratch that. He was definitely still drunk. Careful to compose himself into some semblance of sobriety, Cas’ voice wavered only slightly when he yelled “Who is it?”.

“Woah little bro, rough night? Open up.”

Cas whimpered into the cushion. Gabe was loud and boisterous and, well, Gabe. He wouldn’t care if Cas was still shit-faced. He’d only want to know _why_ Cas consumed an entire bottle of gin in one night. Which, in all fairness, was something that might raise familial concern. Cas didn’t care what Gabe wanted, he just wanted Gabe to go away.

“Not in the mood Gabe. Come back later.” was all Cas mumbled into the stale air. Except then the doorknob was wiggling and Gabe was literally picking his lock goddamnit! What a pain in the ass.

“The fuck Gabe?! You can’t just pick my lock whenever I don’t want you here. Jesus.”

“Calm down bro. I came to bring you some hangover cure-all, full of greasy goodness.” Gabe nearly skipped into the room, arms full of what looked to be food and a few DVDs. Cas could smell the wafting vapors from a bag that Gabe clutched underneath two very large cups of what Cas prayed was coffee from that little roasting place on the outskirts of campus. He sighed, resigned to the fact that Gabe would forever be his most annoyingly good big brother.

“You win. Sorry. Just gimme a second?”

Cas lumbered to his closet-sized bathroom, knocking his shins on the porcelain as he earnestly relieved himself of the remaining alcohol in his system. Thankfully at no point had he puked anywhere. He always hated drunk vomiting. So unclassy and nasty to clean up when you’re finally sober.

Gabe had put his stash of ‘cure-all’ on the thrift-store coffee table the teetered between antique and antiquated. Cas had an irrational attachment to that damn thing, kept it with him when he moved here from the family homestead. He slouched into the futon’s stiff fabric, thoughtlessly grabbing the bag of food out from under Gabe’s hovering hand. As he took an oversized mouthful of the greasy bacon cheeseburger an uncouth moan escaped his half-full lips. Nothing ever tasted as good as one of these burgers after a bender. Gabe had been through his share of hungover mornings and wasted afternoons, therefore he always had the answer when Cas got himself a little too far down into the bottle of whatever alcohol he was favoring that season.

“So you gonna tell me why there’s drool on the carpet and an empty bottle of gin on your table, kid?” Gabe’s voice was soft, simultaneously earnest and cautious. It made Cas’ heart wrench a bit, knowing his brother knew to tread lightly whenever Cas had been drinking. Cas wasn’t always the nicest person, but after some booze he could be downright nasty. And Gabe knew it, had been on the receiving end of some terrible words, even more terrible fists thrown in unwarranted righteous anger. Cas shook his head.

“Man, Gabe, I don’t even know anymore. Shit’s so messed up, and I am running myself ragged this year with classes and the blog and RA shit grad school applications. I- I’m so close to losing it.”

He didn’t bother masking the pain that washed over his face. What was the point? Gabe would know whether Cas told him or not. For all his shenanigans, Gabe was a smart motherfucker.

“Cas, you gotta give yourself a break! You’re doing great. If something is too much, just drop it. You’ve got more than enough shit to make it into grad schools. You know it, I know it, hell the freshman in your dorm know it!” Gabe missed a beat for a sufficiently awkward pause to clear his throat before he added “And if its money you know I’ll always help you out, bro.”

Cas chuckled around his last mouthful of bacon and cheese. “Yeah Gabe, I know. You’re the best.” His tone faked sarcasm, but he meant it probably more than Gabriel knew.

“So what’s the gin for then? Gin is always a special occasion throwdown for you.”

“Sometimes I wish you could actually read minds because it is fucking creepy that you know my drinking habits that well.”

“Ah well we share blood. Isn’t that enough of an excuse?”

“I guess? It’s still weird. Can’t you just work your hoodoo mojo crap and read my mind so I don’t have to say it all out loud. Saying means it’s true, and man I dunno if I’m ready for that level of reality right now.”

Gabe’s brow furrowed at Cas’ honesty. Cas rarely let down his stoic veneer, and when he did it was only because there was some serious shit going down that he couldn’t really handle alone. Cas didn’t actually like being alone, but it was easier than allowing people in if they were all only going to leave again. He couldn’t handle the pity parties if he told anyone that, though. So, he kept the serious stuff to himself until it was obvious he couldn’t handle it anymore.

Gabe heaved a sigh, settling himself in on the futon next to Cas. He mocked holding his head as the psychics on tv always seem to do when they’re supposedly working their magic.

“I see- I see a man. He’s weird looking. I don’t know if I want to see more, this man is kind of a dork. I think maybe he has the herp, or the clap, that’s why he’s consuming inordinate amounts of the heathen fire water” Cas chuckled and shoved his brother’s shoulder hard enough to knock him off-kilter onto the floor. Gabe threw up his arms in surrender as he wrestled himself back onto the futon. “Okay! Okay! Fine. You only drink gin on special occasions. Except you look like you’ve been hit by a MAC truck, which means you weren’t happy while you were drinking.”

He motioned for Gabe to continue.

“So, you got drunk, answered all those ridiculous questions on your blog. Don’t look at me like that, that shit is hilarious to read and you do a good job! Anyway. Unhappy but just got laid because there’s no spank bank mags laying around like usual if you’re drunk and need a good lay.”

Strangled choking sounds came from Cas as his sputtered into his coffee. “Dude, this is worse than me telling you. Are you fucking Sherlock Holmes now? Christ.”

“Bro you told me to! Plus I know you’re still dicking around with Meg. I will refrain from personal comments on that for once though.”

“Ugh thanks. Yeah Meg and I are still, uh, hooking up.”

“Whatever floats your boat kid. Spill what your issue is, I’m here but I gotta head to work soon. Swing shift sucks, for the record.”

Cas felt himself get up and pace the floor. And was he talking? His brain seemed to have disjointed from his conscious. Oh god was he telling Gabe about Dean? Fuck fuck fuck. No this wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to forget he liked guys. He was supposed to find a nice girl and bring her home and marry her and have chubby-cheeked babies with heads full of black hair and green eyes and plush lips just like their Daddy Dean oh for fuck’s sake.

“CAS! Cas. Stop. Just stop. Breath for Christ’s sake. Breathe little bro.” Gabe was holding him steady by his shoulders, fingers gripping deep into his muscle tissue. The sting of pressure brought Cas back into some semblance of reality, the room pitching forward as he fell into his brother.

“Damnit Cas calm the fuck down! You’re okay bro. You’re okay.”

Wide golden eyes blinked back at him as the world righted itself. His mouth seemed to be moving without sound, and he willed his jaw to cease briefly so he could regain use of his vocal cords. But his head was so heavy. So heavy. And his eyes burned. His room was always so damn dry this time of year. But his cheeks were wet. Had he started crying? Oh god what was going on? And now Gabe was muttering into his phone, something about Cas. If he could just push himself up onto his elbows to hear but the world started spinning again and this time Cas didn’t care that he was crying or that his head felt like lead or that his toes were numb. All he cared about was that when he closed his eyes he felt a rough hand gently stroking his forehead, and a gravelly voice whispering softly about the future.


	5. Chapter 5

It was so dark. Hadn’t it just been mid-morning? Why was Gabe watching cartoons in his dorm room? And oh god why did he have to pee so badly?

The futon creaked as Cas shifted into a half-sitting position, completely giving him away to his big, overprotective brother. Gabe was kneeling next to him in an instant.

“What do you need Cas? Water? Food? I should have called 911, I knew it. Ugh can you walk? How’s your head? Wiggle your toes for me. Cas say something!”

Gabe’s sheer panic overwhelmed Cas’ groggy brain. He mustered enough strength to push himself off the futon, grunt in Gabe’s general direction, and stumble to his bathroom for what felt like the second time in mere minutes.

But the mirror told him otherwise. His eyes we’re glassy, bright blue surrounded by stark white laced with red veins. The bags under his eyes were dark, and his hair was massacred into some horrible fauxhawk type style that he knew would never happen voluntarily. He wiped a hand slowly across his ragged features, dragging the skin taut over his cheekbones. Ugh, he looked like death warmed over. And felt more like death that had cooled considerably, a rigor mortis deep in his soul.

He hastily peed in the direction of the toilet, weariness washing over him so violently he wanted nothing more than to crash land into his bed. He shuffled out and around the mess on his floor, heading directly to his unfortunately small bed. Gabe didn’t even attempt to stop him, which was good because Cas didn’t have any fight left in him. He wasn’t even sure what he would be fighting for. Or even what he had been fighting for.

He let out an involuntary huff as his body landed on the bed, blankets fluttering up to wrap themselves around his feet and legs. His eyes were closed but Cas could hear Gabe shifting between the futon on the bed, floorboards rasping under his weight. Finally Cas felt the bed shift, and then there was silence. It surrounded him. It was too loud, too stuffy, too hot, too quiet. The silence roared in his ears like a freight train, careening off into some echoing chamber of stone beneath a mountain of thoughts scattered by the sheer force. Blessedly Gabe whispered Cas’ name just as the silence became overwhelming enough to make Cas scream.

“Cas. Bro. You’re making me nervous. What’s going on? You can tell me little brother. Anything at all.”

Did he have the strength to do this right now? But when else was he going to have prime open season to lay it all out for Gabe? Probably never, until Gabe walked in on him bending some poor guy over that precarious coffee table. And that was so far from ideal. Better now when Cas could maybe later claim partial insanity or fever or something that would make Gabe laugh it all off as a sick joke from little Cassie. And thank fuck Gabe had stopped calling him Cassie.

“Cas?”

“Mmmm. One. Sec. Gabe.”

“Yeah, sure kid. You need water or something?”

“No. Just gimme- gimme a minute.”

It might have been a minute. Maybe two, maybe ten. Maybe it had been an hour and Gabe was just really good at sitting stock-still. But more likely it had been a minute. Cas kept his head down in the soft, warm down of his comforter as he began.

“Look. I let Meg talk me into taking a Pop Culture class. Don’t fucking laugh at me Gabe. I don’t know why, I was sick of people mocking me for not knowing shit about Star Wars Trek of whatthefuckever it is. So we went and ugh fuck…”

Cas shifted to a moderately comfortable sitting position, keeping his head resting on one of his propped up knees before he continued.

“So we get to class and of course we’re late, last two people to get there, and we end up sitting in the damn front row because heaven forbid Meg doesn’t sit next to me, and she makes me sit next to this goddamn kid he’s gotta be a freshman or a sophomore he’s a fucking kid Gabe but he’s got these lips and then he spoke words and i can’t even remember what he said but it was so deep it went straight to my fucking cock and oh god I just shouldn’t have even been there and then Meg thought it was all because of her because she’s so goddamn full of herself and I fucking fucked her in a bathroom and all I could think about was Dean’s eyes and that mouth and I wanted to be balls deep in him not Meg fucking Christ I don’t even… I can’t….”

He dared to peek up at Gabe as he caught his breath. Last time he dropped a bomb like this on his older brother it had been snowing, he had been freezing, and had showed up on Gabe’s very small doorstep with a suitcase.

Gabe had a look of confusion mingling with what Cas could swear was amusement. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then opened it again and what the fuck was he getting at right now?!

“Gabe?”

Gabe put up one lone index finger, then pressed that finger to his lips that were curling into a smile.

“Gabe what the fuck man?!”

It was obvious Gabe was holding back laughter as he spoke. “Cas, bro, you’re having a panic attack because- because you thought some dude in your Pop Culture class was hot?”

When it was put that way, it did seem kind of superfluous that Cas was having a meltdown over this. But for the love of God, Cas wasn’t _supposed_ to like guys. The whole reason he had shown up on Gabe’s doorstep was because he offhandedly mentioned he thought some guy on his rugby team was “kinda cute”. Not that Gabe knew that, Cas had told him some bold-faced lie about Uriel and Michael being assholes which wasn’t hard to believe considering the reputation their elder brothers had made for themselves.

Cas just looked at Gabe through squinted eyes. He was fairly sure he looked like a confused puppy. He felt like one, at least.

“Uh. Yes? I mean I was pretty horrible to Meg after class, so maybe that too. But yes, mostly-“ he swallowed thickly around the name as he spat it out “mostly Dean.”

“Kid, you seriously need to take up running or something because even getting laid is not helping you chill the hell out! You’re not chained to Meg like she wants you to think, Cas. You don’t even call each other boyfriend and girlfriend. Let yourself be some kind of happy, bro.”

“Wait but, don’t you care that Dean is a, well, a-“

“A person with a penis? Nah man. Genitalia doesn’t make a person Cas. If you liked someone with all the parts I wouldn’t care. I might make you tape that from a good point of-“

“Gabe that is fucking disgusting! Stop!”

Gabe just gave a barking laugh and ruffled Cas’ severely disheveled hair. It was sign of affection he hadn’t used since that winter night on his apartment door step. It warmed Cas’ heart to know he’d always have someone as easy-going and understanding as Gabriel.

“So whattya going to do ‘bout Dean-o? He’s taking Pop Culture so he’s either like you, clueless, or really into nerd shit.”

“It’s the latter. He kept going on about all the ‘awesome’ stuff we’d be discussing. Mainly to me because the teacher seemed to be fed up with his brown-nosing about 2 seconds after Dean opened his mouth.”

“Well little bro, start talking back next time. He can teach you a thing or twelve so I don’t have to. And who cares if he’s a freshman because I _know_ that’s going to be your next complaint. Just don’t worry. There’s a reason you said yes to taking a class that won’t even count towards your major, Cas. Serendipitous, if you will, but nonetheless pretty damn awesome. Go for it.”

Cas still felt a little off-kilter, like his world might still come crashing down on his head if he wiggled too hard. But for now, Gabe was the Atlas to his Earth, bolstering Cas up when he needed support the most. Instead of arguing, Cas just shrugged, gave his brother a tired half-smile, and just sighed “Yeah, alright.” into the crook of his arm.

Gabe stood up, stretching himself out. He had probably missed his shift at work for all this shit. But he’d never let Cas pay him back, or even apologize for it. He’d just tell Cas to shove it, not to worry, because that’s what Gabe always did in the end. Crisis averted. No big deal.

“Hey Cas?” Gabe’s voice knocked Cas out of his thoughts. He answered by turning his head to face Gabe, who was halfway out the door.

“If Dean-o turns out to be alright, we _have_ to marathon Star Wars with you. If he’s a serial killer, I never told you any of this.”

Gabe winked, and then was gone. Cas chuckled as he slid deep down into the calm waters that lapped at his consciousness. and when he closed his eyes, there was only a warm comforting feeling surrounding him, and a soft breeze that smelled like musty books and motor oil.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas skipped the Thursday installment of The Dean Winchester Show. He bluffed, telling Meg he and Gabe are going on some day trip to a vague place that has some vague meaning to both brothers. Really, he means he’ll go to Gabe’s tiny-ass apartment, watch Star Trek on BBC America all day, possibly eat whatever lurks in Gabe’s fridge, and mope about for a few hours. He was in no way ready to face seeing that gorgeous freckle-faced asshole again after his not-so-little breakdown yesterday. Meg could survive without him; at least she enjoyed the class.

Spending the day holed up at Gabe’s didn’t help easy any of Cas’ anxiety. He wasn’t even sure why he was anxious about this. It’s college for Christ’s sake. Banging Meg for two years hadn’t given him this kind of come-apart. She was a fuck buddy who occasionally kept Cas entertained outside of the bedroom. They were friends, if Cas was being rational. So why did this twerp Winchester suddenly have him writhing in mental agony? He wasn’t any different than the other guys Cas had noticed walking around campus. He wasn’t even has attractive as some of them! And he was just a kid, all fresh-faced and beaming with the open possibilities of the college life. Barf. So naïve. So unfathomably dull to think that way. College was great, sure. But that greatness lasted all of four years. If you were lucky. Cas wasn’t lucky. Nothing landed in Cas’ lap, no silver spoon on his tongue, no four leaf clovers sprouting up under his feet. He was the least lucky person probably in the world. He could play all the numbers right in the lotto, and they’d tell him the money was already gone or something shitty like that. None of his childhood shooting star wishes came true. He stopped blowing out candles on birthday cakes when he was six; that was moreso because he stopped getting birthday cakes at six. But the concept of luck never set well with him. No horseshoes, just hand grenades.

Hanging out in Gabe’s apartment didn't give Cas the reprieve he had been looking for. He knew he could stay as long as he wanted. Gabe had an open invitation to Cas for the rest of eternity. He just didn't want to stay anymore. His body tingled with restless energy. He threw on his faded denim jacket, enjoying its stabilizing weight on his shoulders. Sometimes just the feel of the soft, well-worn fabric filled Cas will a small flickering flame of joy, nostalgia and memories flooding his heart. Today, though, it just made him feel grounded. No warmth, just a cold weight to keep him from floating off into space. He appreciated it nonetheless.

The sun shone brightly against the autumnal blue sky. Somehow the autumn sky looked different than the summer skies before. The blue was cooler, the clouds crisper, the sun harsher. It wasn’t a bad different, just, different. Cas stood on the sidewalk with his face turned towards the little yellow ball of heat. For a moment he focused all his energy on sensing the world around him. He didn’t meditate with any serious regularity, but if he did, he’d be outside doing this right here. He focused on the small kisses of heat that played upon his cheeks, interrupted only by the cool bites of wind that swirled around him. Fallen leaves scraped and tumbled across the pavement, blowing around in some sort of organized chaos only found in nature. Deliberately he inhaled deeply the smell of damp earth and dried foliage. Summer might be his favorite season, but he couldn’t imagine living anywhere that didn’t have autumn.

He stretched languidly, relaxed by simply allowing himself to pause and exist among the natural elements. Meg would so topple him over with a punch in the shoulder and call him a hippie for this. Meg was kind of a bitch sometimes. He chuckled softly at his own internal dialog. His threadbare Converse padded along the sidewalk, falling into a rhythmic beat that thrummed through him. He hadn’t written anything in a long time, but the further he walked, the more he allowed himself to settle in to the landscape enveloping him, he felt the words spin themselves around in his head, helixes of stanzas and verses and choruses. He didn’t bother to scramble to remember anything that came out of this little jaunt. His writing process was organic, or so he liked to tell himself. The words came and went swiftly, and by the time he got back to his dorm he’d want to change all of them anyway.

Finally his dorm loomed ahead, tall and not entirely inviting. This campus was hovering between inviting and industrial, an acquired taste that Cas fell in love with the first time he visited five years ago. Cas had felt some abstract affinity towards the place, as if it represented his own hard, ambivalent exterior that covered a blossoming, warm, inviting interior. It wasn’t Yale or Harvard or Oxford, but for Cas, it was perfect. Thankfully the only person he had had to convince was Gabriel, and heaven knows that was easier than stealing candy from a baby. Ironically, Cas had given Gabe loads of candy to preface that conversation, just in case his big brother decided to pull rank and object to Cas’ choice. Clearly Gabe hadn’t cared that Cas wasn’t applying to Ivy League schools, he was just proud that Cas was going to college after all the shit he’d been through. Which fueled Cas’ drive to work his ass off so that Gabriel would never be disappointed in him; Cas owed him that much.

He rounded the corner, lost in thought, caught off guard when he bumped into a mass of tangled bodies. As an RA he had to break up hormonal college kids making out all the time. With no real attempt at finesse, Cas loudly cleared his throat, adding a solid “ehem” for good measure. The two bodies separated, red faced and swollen-lipped. A giggle erupted out of the smaller body, and the broad shoulders that stood between them turned. Suddenly everything turned to ash around Cas. Those broad shoulders, covered in brown leather, shrugged with laughter as a gravelly voice rumbled out “Oops, sorry man.” That voice connected with Cas’ diaphragm, as green eyes swept over him. Shit. Shit. This is Dean. Dean making out with. With someone. Who isn’t Cas. Fuck. Say something. Make words. Don’t be a twat.

“Oh” was what gracelessly fell from his lips in a breath. Blood viciously pumped through his veins, roaring in his ears as he felt the blush race across his cheeks. Dean’s eyes were wide with some unnamed emotion, pupils still engorged with lust. The air crackled with tension as both men stood wordlessly gawking.

“Hey, uh, Dean, I gotta get going” came the voice from the small dark-haired companion, still hidden behind the mass of muscle and leather that was Dean Winchester. A quick shake of Dean’s head evaporated the tunnel vision encroaching on Cas, and he awkwardly shuffled his feet.

“Yeah, yeah we should uh, we should go, uh Cas fuck Ash.” Dean’s wide eyes scanned Cas once more before he turned to his cohort. Cas didn’t even bother to look at the other person, who he assumed was male but couldn’t be entirely sure. The voice was ambiguous and their clothing gave nothing away. He watched as the two of them walked away, annoyed at his lack of composure. His annoyance stemmed slightly when he noticed Dean’s bowlegged gait, but only flaired up tenfold when he saw the other person, Ash? Ash was leaning up to give Dean a kiss on the cheek. Cas couldn’t handle the embarrassment of vomiting in public over some stupid freshman kid, so he turned away.

If Cas had waited just a few seconds longer, he would have seen Dean glace back at him. If he had waited just a few seconds, he would have seen Dean wipe off Ash’s kiss. He would have seen Dean stand in the middle of the walkway for a full minute, contemplating Cas’ stooped figure as Cas turned to walk in a different direction. He would have seen Dean’s shoulder slump in disappointment. And he would have seen Meg hovering in the doorway of his dorm building, watching the whole scene.

 

> * * *
> 
> _Becky, he likes someone else._
> 
> **meg u don’t kno tht!**
> 
> _oh c’mon Beck. he’s never wanted me the way I want him. never. ugh I’m so stupid._
> 
> **don’t b like that meg. i mean cas isn’t my fave but idk he wuldnt cheat.**
> 
> _we’re not even a couple Becky! I think he hates me half the time. he’s my fantasy, my fairytale, my gd unicorn. and I’m nothing. he could kick me to the curb tomorrow and not feel bad about it. everyone acts like Cas is such an angel but he’s really gotta be possessed by some horrible demon to treat people the way he does._
> 
> **sweetie come to my rm. ive got ben &jerrys. we can watch some horrible b-class movie and rant about how stupid boys are. k? 9pm.**

The timestamp was from around the same time that Cas had been walking to campus. Meg must have seen that whole shitshow with Dean and his snog partner. Fuck. If he was that obvious to Meg… But no, Meg knew him so well it was scary. She’d pick up on things no one else would. Like the fact that Cas had a major hard on for some twerp with perfectly tousled ash-blond hair and the pinkest, poutiest lips Cas had ever seen and eyes that could tear you apart and put you back together again in an instant. Jesus he was lying next to Meg thinking about Dean. Making up words like “poutiest”.What the fuck?

Cas sighed into his hands. Snooping through Meg’s phone was a terrible thing to do. But it wouldn’t stop vibrating against the floorboards. Cas had no choice but to pick her pockets to find it and silence it. But the 3 missed calls, 1 voicemail and 5 texts caught his attention.

 

> _r u comin ovr?_
> 
> _meg I s2g if ur with that asshole_
> 
> _meg hunny please come over? im rly not mad at u if ur with cas_
> 
> _just don’t get hurt ok?_
> 
> _guess ur busy so im goin to bed. let me know ur ok tho. c ya tmmr! xo_

Well if Becky knew shit was going down, he should probably fess up to Meg. He knew it was unfair to call her up last night. Knew it was unfair to fuck her relentlessly until he couldn’t see, hear, feel, or taste Dean Winchester. Knew it was unfair that he allowed her to still think of him as ‘her unicorn’ when all he resembled was a sad, decrepit show pony put out to pasture. He was nothing good for her, thinking anything else was selfish. Later, when it wasn’t 3am and she wasn’t sound asleep and he wasn’t half-hard thinking about Dean’s lips, he absolutely had to sit her down and explain shit to her completely. It just had to be done.

But for now he was half-hard, it was 3am, and jerking off to thoughts of Dean’s mouth maneuvering over his cock was the best Cas was going to get.


End file.
